


Rabid.

by Bashful_Bitch



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Animal Death, Daddy Issues, Drug Addiction, Internalized Homophobia, Lobotomy, M/M, Overdosing, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22752211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bashful_Bitch/pseuds/Bashful_Bitch
Summary: Husk watches Angel spiraling downwards every day. He doesn't think much of it, until he sees him hit rock bottom.
Relationships: Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 11
Kudos: 152





	Rabid.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning!! Graphic depiction of overdosing, rabies, and medical procedures!!

Husk remembers when he saw a rabid raccoon as a child. He had been playing outside when a loud racket came from inside the shed.

As he opened the door, his dog Dusty started barking, standing between him and a large grey mound of fur laying inside.

The raccoon was obviously disoriented. It would try to stand, to run, only to stumble and fall forward onto the hard ground. It's mouth was wet, frothing in thick globs of drool that drenched it's front in a slick mess. The dirt stuck to it's body in patches of mud from how much this thing slobbered.

He remembered watching as the sick animal swayed in one spot. Trying to right itself over and over again. It's head would fall back as it snapped it teeth repeatedly.

He had moved towards it with an outstretched hand, wanting to help it. He was only 6 or 7, he didn't realize the danger in trying to help the animal.

Dusty had.

With a vicious growl, the old hound lunged forward, grabbing the raccoon with his teeth and shaking it violently.

The raccoon chittered and squealed, turning and clamping down on the dogs face.

The sound of the two fighting had gotten his mother's attention. She came out holding the shotgun and waited for the dog to release the smaller creature before blowing a hole through the raccoons stomach.

Dusty whinned, shaking his head before heading off to lick his wounds.

Husk's mother dropped the gun as she grabbed hold of him by the arms.

"Did it bite you? Did you touch it?!" She asked.

He told her no. He had wanted to help it, but didn't get the chance.

He was immediately dragged over her leg and given a spanking. He had cried, as children tend to do when being punished. He didn't understand why she was so upset.

When she stood him back on his feet, she looked into his eyes and made him listen to her.

"Don't ever touch a sick animal, you understand?! Ever! That raccoon what rabid! Do you know what that means? It means if it bites you, ya get sick and do just like it was doing! You can't swallow, ya can't drink, you turn mad and then you die!"

She had shook him good. Made sure he knew to stay away from anything that acted squirrelly. She drove the point home by picking up the gun to go find Dusty.

"Please, Mommy! Don't kill my dog!" He had cried. There had to be some way to help him?

But there wasn't. He had been bitten, infected by the very thing he had protected Husk from. His mother told him it was a kindness. Better for Dusty to go now, still the sweet, lovable hound he was, than to let him turn mean and dangerous.

She told him to wait in the house.

He sat in his room crying, dreading the sound of the 22. from the backyard.

He learned a lesson that day. Some illnesses couldn't be treated. And never try to help something acting squirrelly.

And now, so many years later, in the deepest depths of Hell, he was watching the same scenario play over.

A sick animal, writhing in agony, trying to regain it's grasp on anything to pull itself back together again.

But it wasn't no fucking raccoon this time. And he knew better than to try and help. The sounds of desperation, the clawing, the gnashing of teeth that the Bible described, all of that was happening right here in this shitty hotel.

It was happening to AngelDust.

The stupid twip had bitten off more than he could chew. A week of forced cold-turkey sobriety had blown up in spectacular fashion. As soon as he had the opportunity, the spider had booked it to the nearest vending machine and bought all the PCP he could get.

He finished it off in one sitting. He didn't even smoke it, like he usually does. He had just started cramming handfuls into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could. He needed the shaking to stop, to not feel like ants were crawling on him.

Husk had known when Angel had done too much. He knew the moment the little queer came stumbling down the stairs. Normally, the arachnid smoked enough to keep himself feeling unstoppable, on top of the world!

Sweet psychedelic relief hitting him all at once. He could taste colors and see music! So much pleasure, no pain, he felt alive again! He didn't care where he was, or who saw him. Didn't care if the Exorcists came and wiped him from existence right then and there!

He was flying, and he never wanted to come back down. So he kept eating that white powder. He ate all of it and licked whatever was left.

It wasn't until he heard his father banging on his bedroom door that he realized he fucked up.

The music was gone. Replaced by horrible noise, all of it too loud. The colors tasted like ash, heavy and harsh on his tongue. Suddenly there were eyes everywhere, watching him, judging him, waiting for him to make a mistake.

Waiting to grab him, drag him back home. Back to his father.

He managed to make it down stairs before collapsing. His body was not his own anymore. He had no control over anything.

Husk watched as Angel tried and failed to get up. His 4 arms spread out in all directions as his legs kicked uselessly underneath him. The spider jerked as he rolled into his side, claws digging into the floor. Jagged scratch marks gouged deep into the wood.

"H-help... Please, help."

Husk didn't move from his spot at the bar. He watched as the drugged out prostitute fell deeper into the hole he had dug. He didn't know how much he'd taken, but he knew it was too much. There was nothing to be done for it now.

Angel spiraled out. He could see all of them looking at him. Their mouths gaped wide with dripping teeth and bits of meat hanging off their lips. His father looked on passively from his chair.

"D-daddy! Please, Daddy! Help me!"

Husk raised a brow. Angel thought his dad was here? He was looking right at him. Husk was his dad right now.

Angel watched his father shake his head. He wasn't going to help him? The snearing faces were getting closer. The hatred in their eyes burning his skin.

"Oh my God! Angel!"

Just then, Charlie came in. She saw Angel on the floor, with tears in his eyes and arms drawn around himself. She wanted to help him. Jesus Christ, she was gonna try to help him.

Husk saw what she was gonna do, and raised his paw to stop her.

"Kid, don't!-"

Angel felt one grab his arm. It was pulling him! It was gonna take him away! Take him to that terrible place they had taken Tony! Put him in that chair, that fucking chair!

He couldn't do it again!

With a gut wrenching scream, Angel wrapped both sets of hands around it's neck. He was gonna kill it before it killed him!

Husk darted up and over the bar, instantly grabbing Angel around the middle as the spider began choking the Princess of Hell. Her eyes were wide and scared, trying to pry the actors many hands off her neck.

"Angel! Let go! It's Charlie! Let her fuckin' go!"

Angel could hear his father yelling at him. He was always yelling at him. He wasn't gonna sit back and watch this time. No, now the bastard was gonna help them! He was gonna help drag Tony to that chair!

He squeezed harder. He was gonna take at least one with him!

Husk watched as Charlie struggled, kicking and scratching, trying get Angel to let her go. She couldn't breathe.

In a last ditch attempt to get the arachnid to release his grip, Husk pressed his thumb down on Angel's secondary eyes.

Angel screamed, reaching behind him to grab his father's hair. The demon slithered away, eager to be free from him, but his father held tight as the Instrument slid into his eye socket.

"NO DADDY! PLEASE, NO!"

Husk held tight as the spider clutched his face, using his wings and tail to hold him down. Angel was drooling heavily as his eyes darted around the room.

"I'LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE! I PROMISE DADDY, PLEASE!"

His father held him tight as the demon tapped on the Instrument with a tiny hammer.

Tap...tap...tap...

Husk groaned, feeling sick at the desperation in Angel's voice. He found himself trying to soothe him, even though he knew it was useless.

"Kid, it's okay. It's okay, you're fine. Nothin' bad's gonna happen-"

"- It'll be over soon! Just let it happen, Tony. It's okay. You're okay. We're gonna fix it! We're gonna 6747 7073 2543 690 ***************************************************************************************************************"

Angel couldn't understand his father any more. His words were garbled nonsense. His body was numb, and he couldn't think. He felt himself slip away. Total blankness taking over, as the person holding him stood up. He was on the floor, and it is getting dark.

".... Daddy?..."

Husk sighed as Angel finally lapsed into his Overdose. His body trembling as his breathing became shallow. His eyes were blown wide and dilated. Heartbeat thrumming wildly against his ribs before suddenly stopping.

He was drooling on the floor. He had been foaming at the mouth this whole time. He'll regenerate in a few hours, but the image will stay with Husk when he goes to bed tonight.

Angel had acted just like that raccoon.

Like he was rabid.


End file.
